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At the corner of main street there was
            A bus shelter, and a Pepsi truck
In the shade of a large symmetrical building
            Housing an insurance company.

During a moment of quiet a man
           In a tan suit unfolded his umbrella
In the brilliant sunshine and shook off
           Drops of golden water that followed
Quick paths out of the light,
           Giving the effect of a catherine wheel.

It was out of joint. I was sure there had been
           A simple error;
That the movement of the cargo of the truck,
           And the qualities—real
And imaginary—of the building
           And of the insurance company,

And the pattern of the coloured spray of rain,
           Were all products of a simple error.
Feeling like that, I ordered breakfast, opening
           An old newspaper to the second page.